


you've got blood on your face

by a_splash_of_stucky



Series: Elsa attempts to do MCU KB 2017/18 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blood, Blood Kink, Bucky has many inappropriate thoughts, Bucky is crazy for Steve, Bucky is horny, Canon-Typical Violence, D/s undertones, Knifeplay, M/M, MCU Kink Bingo 2017/18, Masturbation, Mild D/s, Steve likes pain, Tent Sex, Unexpected orgasms, Use of Safe Words, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 08:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_splash_of_stucky/pseuds/a_splash_of_stucky
Summary: Steve likes combining his two favourite things: Bucky and blood.





	you've got blood on your face

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever Steve x Bucky fic, which also happens to be my first non-reader insert fic! I hope you all like it 
> 
> title is taken from Queen's 'We Will Rock You', which my mother happened to be randomly listening to as I wrote this :')
> 
> (and please be kind >.<)

Bucky tries to focus on what Steve’s saying, he really does. 

It’s a lost cause. 

To his defence, Bucky doesn’t quite know how _anyone_ could focus on the mind-numbingly dull words falling out of Steve’s mouth when he looks the way he does. His golden hair is sweaty from being trapped underneath his helmet for hours, odd tufts sticking up at the side from where he’d run his fingers through it to make his hair look less flat. Dirt and grime and a layer of sweat cling to his face; a stripe of rust-red blood is smeared across his cheekbone. His bottom lip is busted open and there’s a dark purple bruise above his right eye. Steve looks like he’s fresh off a fight and _lord_ if that doesn’t get Bucky’s engines going. 

There’s just something so….intangibly perfect about the way Steve looks in this very moment. He’s so goddamn appealing, looking like a meal on two legs. Bucky would very much like to eat him right now; he’s practically drooling at the thought of it. Where Steve is all set-jaw and determinedly focused gaze, Bucky is weak-kneed and doe-eyed, his self-discipline hanging on by the thinnest gossamer of threads. A larger part of him — the part of Bucky that is perpetually ready to get dicked down by Steve Rogers — is just seconds away from marching across the circle the Howlies are standing in, grabbing Steve by the bicep and dragging him to their tent, damn what the rest of the boys think. 

With a long-suffering internal sigh, Bucky wrenches his mind out of the gutter it seems to permanently be in and forces himself to focus on the stuff that Steve’s saying. It’s a debrief after a fairly big mission — this shit could actually be important. Bucky is trying to stoically ignore the pool of heat that has accumulated in his lower belly, but that is easier said than done when Steve is making eyes and smirking knowingly at him every other minute. 

Finally, finally, _finally_ , after five more — unbearably agonising, Bucky thinks — minutes of Steve running his mouth, their circle finally disbands. Gabe ambles away to take first watch and the rest of the boys head off to wash up, eat or wind-down for the night. Steve does an about-face and strides off towards the tent he shares with Bucky without so much as a second glance in his direction, trusting that Bucky will trail along after him like the attention-starved puppy he is. 

Bucky does exactly that, all too eager to fucking _finally_ have some alone time with his best guy. 

The moment Steve pulls the tent flap back into place, Bucky lunges forward, plastering himself all over Steve, clinging to his broad shoulders and mashing their lips together as if his life depends on it. It must _hurt_ for Bucky to be kissing Steve so fiercely, what with his split lip and all, but Steve only chuckles and responds in kind, big hands resting heavy on Bucky’s hips, holding their bodies close together.

“You got no idea how hard it was to not fuck you in front of ‘em,” Bucky growls, fisting his hands into Steve’s shirt as he walks them over to their bedroll. His mind distantly realises that that statement could be interpreted in more than one way, but he pushes that thought aside, choosing to focus on the matter at hand. Bucky topples backwards onto the bedroll once his heel connects with the edge, trusting Steve to break his fall.

“Can’t blame you. You’ve always been hot for competency,” Steve quips as he eases them down, pressing another kiss to Bucky’s lips pulling back to grin down at him. Bucky wriggles around so that he lies flat on his back, spreading his legs wide for Steve to settle comfortably between them. Steve’s forearms are braced on either side of his head, bracketing him in. 

“I liked watching you,” Steve says absentmindedly, as he ducks down to pepper soft kisses along the stubble on Bucky’s jaw. Bucky tips his head back and lets his eyes slide shut, humming contentedly. 

“Liked watching me do what?” Bucky asks, his curiosity piqued by the suggestive, candid nature of Steve’s voice. 

“Fightin’. Throwing your knife around, takin’ out all those guys,” Steve replies, turning his attention to Bucky’s neck now, pushing his collar apart with one hand to suck a bruise on the skin. 

The admission is more than a little bit surprising. Then again, Bucky’s about to have sex with his guy despite the fact that there’s dirt in their hair and blood on their skin. Who’s he to judge?

“Yeah, sugar?” Bucky purrs, trailing his fingers up Steve’s obscenely large biceps. “You like a lil’ knife play, hmm? Want me to show you what else I can do? Show ya’ what I could do to you with it?”

It takes him a second to register that Steve has suddenly gone stock-still, mouth hovering just above Bucky’s collarbone, hands clenched into fists on either side of his head. Bucky’s mouth has a tendency to get ahead of itself when he’s this horny, which in turn means that he says things that shouldn’t really be slipping out of his fat trap. Before he can open his mouth to apologise and lighten the mood, he finds Steve’s lips pressed against his, tongue licking insistently at the seam of his mouth. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve hisses, rolling his hips against Bucky’s hardened erection, an action that sends stars dancing across the backs of Bucky’s eyelids. “Wan’ you to hold me down and run it all over me, Buck. Want you to make me _bleed_.”

Well. 

That was unexpected.

So his best guy likes a bit of blood play, gets hot watching Bucky with a knife in his hand. No harm in that. Nothing new there. 

Steve’s always been a thrill-seeker. Bucky’s fairly certain that if he went into the library back at school and looked in a dictionary, the definition for ‘adrenaline junkie’ would be _Steven Grant Rogers_.

For as long as Bucky’s known him — and probably a while longer than that, he reckons — Steve has always liked getting a little rough. Sure, he goes around spouting spiels about standing up for what’s right and not backing down from the bullies, even when they’re three times your size. Sure, he _believes_ every single word he says, but at the end of the day, Steve likes a little bit of blood. Steve used to get into back-alley scuffles because he, for whatever strange reason, enjoyed going about the rest of his evening with bruised shins and bloodied knuckles.

Blood and Bucky: Steve’s two favourite things in the world. Once he discovered that the both of them mixed, that’s all that Steve’s been wanting to do, ever since. Their sex life is now speckled with drops of blood, in the best way possible. Steve loves it when Bucky digs his nails into the meat of his shoulders, leaving red, crescent-shaped openings in their wake. One time, when Steve had been pounding into him from behind, Bucky’s teeth had sunk into the flesh of Steve’s forearm in order to muffle his shouts of pleasure, which in turn sent Steve into an unexpected orgasm. Sure, it might be a little unorthodox, a little risky what they’re doing, but Steve’s always healed up before the night is over, and Bucky’s never hurt him beyond what he deems safe. Bucky just goes along with Steve’s desires for the most part, knowing that there’s enough trust between them for Steve to holler ‘Jersey’ when things get taken a step too far. 

Bucky likes to think of himself as a simple man; he gets pleasure out of giving pleasure. If Steve wants to introduce a little blood play, a little knife play into their evening routine, then it’s not exactly something Bucky will deny him. It helps that Steve looks so ruggedly handsome when he’s got dried blood crusted on his skin. The metallic tang it leaves on Bucky’s lips when he kisses those spots is just — phenomenal. 

His mind is brought back to the present when he finds that Steve has rolled them over so that Bucky is straddling Steve’s waist. Snapping back into action, Bucky smiles salaciously at his lover, leans down to peck him on the lips, then stands up to head over to his pack for the slick. “Get undressed,” Bucky orders over his shoulder, smiling to himself when he hears the frantic rustling of fabric as Steve scrambles to obey. The uniform is a lot of things and ‘easy to get out of’ is, thankfully, one of them. 

Once the tin of slick is in his palm, Bucky kicks off his boots and does away with his clothes, hurriedly folding them into a neat pile and placing them on top of his pack. Before he goes back to Steve, Bucky retrieves his favourite knife from its sheathe inside his pack and holds it in a loose grip in his left hand, savouring its oddly comforting weight for a minute. 

When he does turn around, however, Bucky can’t help but groan loudly. Steve’s propped up on his elbows, legs splayed apart to give Bucky a peek at that inviting little hole. His chest is flushed and heaving, those incredible tits just begging for attention. Steve catches sight of the knife in Bucky’s hand and outright _whimpers_. There’s an answering twitch in Bucky’s groin, a pooling of desire at the base of his cock. God, but Bucky wants Steve so _bad_.

He crosses over to Steve in one a half brisk strides and easily sits himself across Steve’s abs, causing Steve to let out a quiet _oof_ of surprise. Bucky hunches over and captures Steve’s lips in another kiss, revelling in the tiny sigh that Steve breathes, relishing the way his lover just melts into Bucky’s touch. 

Without warning, Bucky rears back and presses the sharp side of his knife to the hollow of Steve’s throat. Reflexively, Steve flinches, hours of experience in the field forcing him to act on pure instinct. Just as quickly, though, his body slackens, eyes darkening and breath turning shallow when he realises what Bucky’s just done. Bucky isn’t pressing his blade in hard enough to break the skin, but the mere pressure, the mere _kiss_ of fool metal against against such a vulnerable place seems to be doing it for Steve, if the expression on his face is anything to go by.

“You gonna be good for me, Steve?” Bucky asks, digging the blade just a tiny bit deeper, enough to make Steve’s breathing hitch.

“Y-yeah,” Steve breathes, swallowing carefully. 

Bucky narrows his eyes, cocks his head to the side. “Where’re we headed?”he asks. 

“Germany,” Steve replies quickly, “Nowhere near Jersey.”

Bucky lips pull back into a devilish grin. “Alright then,” he says, shuffling forward a little and taking his weight onto his knees, which are pressing on either side of Steve’s ribs. “Want you to get yourself ready for me,” Bucky tells him, pressing the small tin of slick into Steve’s left hand, “Want you to put your fingers into that sweet ass of yours, make yourself all wet for me.”

Steve’s eyes widen, ever so slightly, and his tiny pink tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. 

“And,” Steve stops, forces himself to swallow and take a shaky breath. Bucky rests his free hand over Steve’s heart, feeling the way it hammers madly against his ribcage. _Oh_ , but his sweet boy is _so_ turned on by this. “A-and what’re you gonna do, Buck?”

Bucky chuckles, low and dark and husky, in a way he knows will send shivers running down Steve’s spine. He crouches down, keeping the knife pressed to Steve’s throat. Once Bucky’s lips are brushing Steve’s ear he whispers, “I’m going to make you _bleed_.”

The lustful moan he gets in answer is sweet music to his ears. 

With shaking hands, Steve unscrews the lid of the tin, scoops some slick — way too much slick, he must be so far gone, bless him — onto his right middle finger and reaches around Bucky’s body to find his hole. The tin gets dropped into the blankets as Steve brings his knees up, wriggling himself around to find the most comfortable angle. Of course, this would probably be easier if Bucky got off Steve’s abs, but his boy did mention something about wanting to get pinned down. In any case, Bucky scoots forward to give Steve some more room to work with. Once he gets the nod of consent from Steve, Bucky sits up straighter and pulls the knife away from Steve’s throat. 

Bucky runs the tip of the knife over Steve’s pecs and down his abs, tickling Steve with the cool metal. Steve’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip — though whether that’s Bucky’s doing, or as a result of the butt stuff going on, Bucky’s not entirely sure. When Bucky presses his blade into Steve’s side, Steve gasps, eyes flying open in wonderment. The cut is shallow, but still deep enough for a few drops of blood to seep out. Bucky watches in fascination as Steve’s skin knits itself back closed. 

They spend some time like this, with Bucky trailing his knife over Steve torso, arms and neck, pressing the blade in to draw out a little blood at random intervals, then sitting back and watching in awe as Steve’s miraculous body heals itself. Every now and then, Bucky brings the knife to Steve’s lips and orders him to lick it, cleaning away the blood that clings to the blade. 

All the while, Bucky murmurs sweet nothings under his breath, cooing approvingly as Steve works himself open with his fingers. Steve’s trying hard to choke back his desperate sounds of pleasure — just because the rest of the Howlies are okay with them being together, doesn’t mean that he and Steve need to go rubbing the fact in their faces — but as time passes, that task becomes increasingly difficult. Increasingly, whenever Bucky digs the tip of his knife into Steve’s skin, Steve’s lips part on a soft mewl, brows knitting together at the brief flare of painful pleasure. 

Bucky uses the point of his knife to trace around Steve’s pebbled nipples, grinning maliciously as he watches Steve squirm; his sweet boy has always been so sensitive there. Steve’s body is like an abstract work of art, by this stage, the cuts all over him in various stage of healing over, his entire torso spotted and streaked with trails of scarlet blood. A part of Bucky wants to lean down and lap it all up with his tongue. Bucky reaches behind him, grabs hold of Steve’s rock hard cock and gives it a few rough strokes. Steve’s hips jerk upwards as he groans lustfully. 

“Should carve my name into you,” Bucky muses, leaning over to press a searing kiss to Steve’s lips, just as he pulls the bloodied blade away from Steve’s right pec. “All over your chest, hmm?”

“Do it,” Steve breathes, voice strained and scratchy from the effort of having to suppress his moans. 

“Yeah? You’d like that, huh?” Bucky asks, running the flat of his blade down the centre of Steve’s body, as if he were using Steve’s body to sharpen it. “I wish you’d scar so everyone’d see it. Maybe I’d carve in ‘Property of JBB’ on your ass so everyone knows what’s mine, yeah?”

All of a sudden, Steve stills underneath him. Bucky’s about to pull back and ask what’s wrong when he feels a warmth splashing over the small of his back. He grins then, understanding falling into place. Bucky redirects his gaze to watch Steve’s face, observing as his expression contorts with pleasure. His perfect little mouth falls open into a round ‘o’, eyes screwing shut and brows furrowing as his climax consumes him. 

Once his body has slumped down, Bucky tosses his knife to the side and smiles fondly at Steve, who has the audacity to blush and duck his head in embarassment. 

“Enjoyed that, I take it?” Bucky teases, leaning forward to cage Steve’s head between his arms.

“A lot,” Steve admits, voice sheepish. “I—didn’t realise how close I was getting.”

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Bucky scolds, sensing the apology that’s balancing on the tip of Steve’s tongue. “That was hot, sugar, so hot. Don’t go spoilin’ this night for me ‘cause of your stupid mouth.”

Steve scrunches his nose, swallowing back whatever he was about to say. His gaze flicks to Bucky’s face, catching his gaze for a second before flitting away again, as if shy. “I—really—um,” Steve says haltingly. 

“What, Stevie?”

“I…really…liked that last idea,” Steve confesses timidly.

And _goodness_ if that doesn’t make Bucky’s heart go all warm and fuzzy, make it swell ten times its size with possessive pride, then nothing ever will. 

“Yeah?” Bucky husks, nosing along Steve’s temple, encouraging him to turn his head so that their lips can meet in a sweet, lingering kiss. “Your ass belongs to me, don’t it sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, breath hot against Bucky’s lips. 

“Well, if I can’t mark you up on the outside,” Bucky drawls, letting more of his weight drop onto Steve’s bloodied body. His train of thought momentarily halted as Steve grabs hold of the back of his neck and pulls him in for another kiss, seemingly intent on sucking all the air out of his lungs. 

“Can’t mark up your skin, so I’m just gonna have to mark you up from the _inside_ ,” Bucky says, rolling his hips suggestively, smearing the pre-come dripping from his straining cock across Steve’s toned belly.

From the way Steve’s breath catches, it’s clear that the solution is a satisfactory compromise.

**Author's Note:**

> Share the love on [tumblr](https://a-splash-of-stucky.tumblr.com/post/169226189140/youve-got-blood-on-your-face/) :)


End file.
